Entry tags:
a smattering of small updates
Monday night involved more sleep than Sunday, but not entirely enough. The customer session on Tuesday was okay, albeit minus a person.
I got enough sleep on Tuesday night. It was glorious. There was a "farmer's market" at work on Wednesday. Like a real one, there was questionable music, too much sun, and not enough water. Nobody fell over.
I came in on I think Tuesday to a guy up on a ladder adjacent to the doors. He was disconnecting the power supply from the offending door, prior to actual repair.
I printed up a "Use other door" sign for both sides of the door.
It was good that I did, because Purple's friend from out of town sort of smacked into it noisily on the way in anyway.
Today I came in and the door seems to be fixed. Both sides are working and I haven't seen the other side being terrible.
Did I mention the radical transparency tale here? Because I had a really surreal conversation with someone on the fixit team for the helldesk. Apparently she likes working with me. This is good because I know I can be hard to work with if your product is terrible. Mostly I have a low tolerance for bullshit and I just want it to work. Also, the phrase "they hate it more than I do" is a telling one, and one that is getting impressed noises from co-workers.
Purple couldn't hang around chatting for too long tonight because he had some friends to go see. I am pleased: Purple is a social dude, and him having the energy to do such things is a good sign.
A periodic reminder to adult men in assorted professional fields: if she is old enough to have a shiny new college degree and a shiny new job here, she is a woman unless she tells you otherwise. In formal contexts like a presentation to co-workers in which you are encouraging diversity in a group you'd like to work with, "women" is the word you want, not "girls". That's the high school mentorship group down the hall and to your left.
I got enough sleep on Tuesday night. It was glorious. There was a "farmer's market" at work on Wednesday. Like a real one, there was questionable music, too much sun, and not enough water. Nobody fell over.
I came in on I think Tuesday to a guy up on a ladder adjacent to the doors. He was disconnecting the power supply from the offending door, prior to actual repair.
I printed up a "Use other door" sign for both sides of the door.
It was good that I did, because Purple's friend from out of town sort of smacked into it noisily on the way in anyway.
Today I came in and the door seems to be fixed. Both sides are working and I haven't seen the other side being terrible.
Did I mention the radical transparency tale here? Because I had a really surreal conversation with someone on the fixit team for the helldesk. Apparently she likes working with me. This is good because I know I can be hard to work with if your product is terrible. Mostly I have a low tolerance for bullshit and I just want it to work. Also, the phrase "they hate it more than I do" is a telling one, and one that is getting impressed noises from co-workers.
Purple couldn't hang around chatting for too long tonight because he had some friends to go see. I am pleased: Purple is a social dude, and him having the energy to do such things is a good sign.
A periodic reminder to adult men in assorted professional fields: if she is old enough to have a shiny new college degree and a shiny new job here, she is a woman unless she tells you otherwise. In formal contexts like a presentation to co-workers in which you are encouraging diversity in a group you'd like to work with, "women" is the word you want, not "girls". That's the high school mentorship group down the hall and to your left.